The Hunter, The Detective, The Angel and The Pathologist
by RunYouCleverBoyAndRememberMe
Summary: "Who are you?" he spat, almost involuntary "Castiel" she replied, eyes still fixed on the book. "Yeah, I figured that much, I mean what are you?" With a strange hint of pride, she said "I'm an Angel of the Lord." AU Where Sherlock is Dean Winchester and Molly... well, Molly isn't really there anymore.


**Based off this post /post/44378721964, but slightly adapted this. I'm writing this instead of my ongoing fic. Welp. I love me some sherolly and I love superblock so *shrugs*. Sue me. **

**Enjoy and don't forget to review! If I get enough I might consider extending it a little, into a two-shot. All those beautiful destiel moments, all waiting for HMS Sherolly…**

Sherlock sighed as he checked his watch for 37th time in the last hour. He had been waiting approximately 2 hours and 49 minutes for this mysterious 'Castiel' to arrive. Along with Lestrade, he was 98% sure that he had done the ritual perfectly. Maybe Lestrade had messed it up.

"Are you sure you did the ritual right?" he asked impatiently.

Lestrade threw him a look of annoyance. Sherlock just sighed.

As if on cue, a loud rattling shook the roof. Both Sherlock and Lestrade grabbed their guns and headed to the back of the warehouse.

"Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind." Lestrade muttered as they both took aim at the heavy wooden door barred by a thick chunk of wood. Lestrade was wrong

With an almighty crash the doors flew open, revealing the lone figure. Sherlock didn't stop to think. He just started firing, and heard Lestrade do the same. The figure strode purposefully in, overstepping the devils trap like it was nothing; Sherlock was almost blinded by the exploding light bulbs that burst as the figure walked under them. Sparks rained down on the two hunters, but still they fired. As the sparks cleared, Sherlock saw that every single one of his shots and hit straight on target, but the figure- it wasn't a demon, it had had no trouble with the devils trap- hadn't faltered. Seeing this, Sherlock stopped firing, and backed into the table, curling his finger around the handle of the knife. Now that there was less gunfire, he finally managed to get a good look at the approaching figure- Castiel. What he saw shocked him, although he kept his face impassive.

It was a young woman.

She had mousy brown hair that was tied back into a practical pony tail that screeched all the way down to her waist. She had a slightly upturned nose, a small mouth and warm chocolate coloured eyes. She was dressed in a Doctor's coat over a red blouse and everyday brown trousers. Both the coat and cardigan were peppered with bullet holes, but there was no blood. If Sherlock had seen her in the street, he would have dismissed her. Deleted her. But here, here, she may look unassuming and harmless, but Sherlock could sense the unbelievable power running through her veins.

She came steadily closer to Sherlock and Lestrade. Neither of them shrunk back against her presence.

"Who are you?" Sherlock asked

The woman spoke with no expression, only earnestness in her voice

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."

"Yeah" Sherlock smirked "Thanks for that."

He raised his hand and stabbed the knife into her chest. He let go of it, waiting for her to collapse to the ground so he could retrieve it.

Nothing happened. She stared down at the knife in her chest, unconcerned.

Slowly, she reached up her hand and pulled the knife out. There was no blood, and she displayed this fact to him deliberately before letting the knife fall to the ground, where it clattered ominously. Lestrade moved surprisingly fast, for an older man. He swung a large metal pole at her head, but without even looking she caught hold of in and held on fast. Lestrade's look of anger quickly turned to one of shock ad she pulled him and the pole towards him. In a simple movement, she gently touched two fingertips to his forehead and the old hunter crumpled to the floor.

"We need to talk, Sherlock. Alone."

-ooo000ooo-

Now weapon less, Sherlock bent down to check on Lestrade. The woman turned away from them, and Sherlock swore he saw a ghost of a smile upon her face. Sherlock glared at her, feeling Lestrade's pulse.

"Your friend's alive." She said

Sherlock had already felt the strong beat of his heart. He stared daggers at the woman, who he was now convinced was the mysterious Castiel. Exactly what she was made her a mystery. She was obviously no demon. Sherlock studied her intently as she flicked through the spell book he and Lestrade had used to summon her.

"Who are you?" he spat, almost involuntary

"Castiel" she replied, eyes still fixed on the book.

"Yeah, I figured that much, I mean _what_ are you?"

She finally lifted her head to look at him. Her brown eyes bored into his own, no longer warm and comforting, but alien, otherworldly. It was like she was reading him, deducing him, staring into his very soul.

Then with a strange hint of pride, she said

"I'm an Angel of the Lord."

"Get out" Sherlock said flatly. "There is no such thing"

She paced towards him, abandoning the book.

"That's your problem, Sherlock. You have no faith"

"No" Sherlock shook his head, still disbelieving "No way. There is no way you can possibly exist"

She gave him a sly half-smile. Lightning flashed for way longer than normal, the accompanying sound of thunder shaking the very foundations. Illuminated from the lightning, unfurling from the woman's back was the black silhouette of two enormous wings.

Sherlock tried to keep his shock hidden as the wings flickered from existence once again, but Castiel didn't look convinced.

Covering up, he said "Some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman's eyes!"

He was pleased to see the self-satisfied smile slip off her face, into one that resembled guilt, although Sherlock wasn't sure it was genuine.

"I-I warned her not to spy on my true form." She said unhappily "It can be... overwhelming to humans… and so can my real voice. But you already knew that."

She nodded at him. He remembered the shattering glass in the service station and the hotel room, the horrible ear- splitting sound and the bleeding ears that followed.

"That was you?"

She nodded again.

"Next time, try not to deafen me"

She looked down, unable to meet his eyes "That was my mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong"

"And what visage are you in now?" Sherlock snorted "some sort of Holy Doctor?"

She seemed surprised, looking down at herself "This? This is... a vessel."

Sherlock was immediately on guard

"You possess someone? That's some poor woman trapped in there?"

"She was a devout woman. She prayed for this."

Sherlock snorted again, this time in disgust. "Who are you really?"

She frowned and tilted her head "I told you."

"Right" Sherlock said sarcastically "And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?"

Her frown got deeper, making adorable crinkles above her eyes. Wait, _adorable_? Sherlock mentally shook himself

"Good things do happen, Sherlock." She said

Sherlock thought back over his life, all the things that had happened. The best thing that had happened was John Watson and look where that friendship had got him. Hell. Quite literally. It was as Mycroft has always told him.

Caring was not an advantage.

It was in full honesty when he replied "Not in my experience."

"What's the matter?" Sherlock didn't know it was possible to squint that much and still see out of your eyes. Then Castiel's eyes widened a tiny amount as she seemed to find the answer she was looking for.

"You don't think you deserve to be saved?"

Sherlock wasn't going to be psychoanalyzed by an angel

"Why'd you do it?" he asked determinedly.

She stepped very close to Sherlock. Evidently, the angel had no sense of personal space.

"Because God commanded it." She told him, almost nose to nose

"Because we have work for you."

**Wow that went on a lot longer than I thought it would! **

**Please review, it means the world!**


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